


Aftermath

by sparxwrites



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blood, F/M, Fake AH Crew, GTA V AU, M/M, Michael's Heist, Multi, Murder, Rough Kissing, Teasing, mavinsay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 22:07:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1664183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Gavin, you’re safe, come back here,” shouts Michael over the sound of the wind and the waves, gun dangling loosely at his side as he gestures frantically at the small figure bobbing up and down a few dozen feet away. “I’m not gonna fucking shoot you, you idiot, come back!”</p>
<p>There’s a second’s pause where Michael’s not sure if Gavin will come back, where he’s half-sure he’s going to have to watch Gavin turn his back and swim for shore – and then he lets out a long breath of relief when Gavin starts doggy-paddling back towards the boat.</p>
<p>(Or: Michael, Gavin, and Lindsay in a boat are a bad combination if you want to get anything done.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

“Gavin, you’re safe, come back here,” shouts Michael over the sound of the wind and the waves, gun dangling loosely at his side as he gestures frantically at the small figure bobbing up and down a few dozen feet away. “I’m not gonna fucking shoot you, you idiot, come back!”

There’s a second’s pause where Michael’s not sure if Gavin _will_ come back, where he’s half-sure he’s going to have to watch Gavin turn his back and swim for shore – and then he lets out a long breath of relief when Gavin starts doggy-paddling back towards the boat.

“Thank fuck,” he mutters, stepping down from where he’d been precariously balanced on the flat back of it. “Why the fuck did he even run off, anyway, wasn’t even fucking aiming at him.” It’s not proper anger, just irritation for irritation’s sake, adrenaline and success soured by the alarm he’d felt when he’d realised Gavin wasn’t on the boat any more.

Gavin’s sopping wet as he drags himself back over the side of the boat, shivering from the cold of the sea and shooting anxious glances at Geoff and Kerry’s bodies, at the gun still in Michael’s hand, as he lays gasping across the back seat. Everything happened so fast, confusion one moment after the distant explosion and then a spray of bullets the next, the two men dead before Gavin had processed what was even happening.

“You’re not going to kill me, right?” he asks, once he’s caught back the breath that was punched from his chest by the cold and exertion. “Right?” He peeks up at Michael through his damp fringe, flattened and hanging over his eyes, stares at the man he thought he knew with wide eyes.

Briefly, he wonders whether getting back on the boat was a mistake. But they’re in the middle of nowhere, the sea angry and choppy around them, night closing in – and even if Gavin had tried to swim for it, Michael has a machine gun. Picking him off amongst the waves wouldn’t exactly have been a challenge.

“Course not,” says Michael, roughly, setting his gun down and cursing under his breath at the blood that gets over his hands as he hauls first Kerry and then Geoff’s body over the side of the boat. Gavin watches them sink down through the water, red blooming behind them as they fall to an ignoble death at sea. “You’re my boi, aren’t you? I wouldn’t kill you.”

“Yeah,” says Gavin, quietly. “But Geoff was your friend.”  
“And now he’s dead,” says Michael, shrugging and leaning over the side to wash his hands off in the sea, scrubbing the blood from the cracks in his knuckles. “Shit happens.”

A second’s silence, and then Gavin asks quietly, “How do I know shit won’t happen to me?”

Michael sighs, drags an irritated hand through his hair that makes it stick up in uneven spikes. “Jesus christ, Gav. I already told you I’m not going to fucking kill you.” He straightens up, crosses the boat in a handful of impatient steps and grabs Gavin’s chin, pulling him into a kiss that’s an inch from downright _angry_. “You’re my boi. End of fucking story.”

The kiss draws a thin, pleased noise from Gavin’s throat, and he leans upwards as Michael pulls away, chasing his lips. “Okay, Michael,” he mumbles, smiling a little. “You’re my boi too.”

Michael groans, rolls his eyes at how incredibly childlike Gavin can be, and then curses as he almost slips on a patch of blood when the boat tilts. “Fucking messy,” he grumbles, wishing they had a towel or something to clean up. The driver’s seat is splattered with crimson, several bullet holes in the leather, and he’s not relishing having to sit in it later.

“I don’t understand, though,” says Gavin, quietly, as Michael reluctantly scrapes the worst of the blood off the seat with his fingers before washing them again, teeth bared with distaste. “Who blew up the boat? I mean, you had to have had an accomplice, and Ray and Ryan died, so..”

“They’d have died anyways,” said Michael, grinning. “I rigged their escape vehicle. Ignition bomb. No fucking way I was having them around to the end. Ryan’s good, but he’s a backstabbing traitor if he thinks it’ll serve his purposes, and Ray’s too good.”

Gavin frowns. “So who-”

There’s a splash from somewhere nearby, and then another, getting closer – and seconds later there’s a hand hooked over the side of the boat, soon followed by another. He yelps, recoiling, images of zombies and dead eyes and pale flesh, Geoff rising from the seabed covered in kelp and looking for revenge.

He breathes a sigh of relief when it’s just Lindsay, soaked and scowling as she hauls herself aboard.

“You _could_ have brought the boat around,” she say, before Michael can welcome her aboard, looking about as pleased at her unnecessary bath as a cat would. She wrings her hair out with two hands, leans into the kiss Michael offers her once she’s finished, and then shoves him away when he tries to slide an arm around her waist. “No, I’m pissed at you. Stop trying to seduce me.”

“Hey, Lindsay,” says Gavin, from where he’s curled himself into a ball on the seat, knees close to his chest and arms wrapped around them to keep the heat in. “You were the one that blew the boat up?” He really should have guessed. There’s no one else Michael would trust to

“Yeah, and she fucked up,” grumbles Michael, settling into the driver’s seat – since there’s no way in hell he’s letting Gavin drive again, and Lindsay hasn’t made a move towards it. “She was supposed to blow the boat up with Geoff and Kerry in it, not wait for them to get away, and she got the wrong fucking boat.”

Lindsay makes an indignant noise, hauls her shirt over her head as Michael starts the engine with a low roar. “How was I supposed to know which boat they’d take?” she asks, wringing her shirt out and slipping it back on. “It was fifty-fifty. I took a gamble, I was wrong, you picked them off without any problem anyway. Quit bitching.”

The boat jolts forward as Michael accelerates just a little faster than necessary, nose ploughing forward into a wave that sprays them all with tiny droplets – not that they notice it, soaking as they all are. Michael’s grateful for the thickness of his jacket, for the fact that leather doesn’t retain water terribly well.

“You could have rigged both boats,” he points out, although she’s right. At worst, the wrong boat detonating was a minor snag. It’d have been nice if the whole thing had gone off without a hitch, though he supposes any chances of that were fucked the moment they

“Didn’t have enough charges,” says Lindsay with a shrug, making a face as she moves to sit down and her feet stick to the bottom of the boat, tacky with drying blood.  
“You had two!”  
“I wanted a big explosion,” she says simply, settling down next to Gavin and laughing when he curls into her for warmth with a quiet noise of happiness. “Big explosions are the best, right, Gavin?”

“Right,” he agrees into her shoulder, grinning when she rewards him with a kiss to the top of the head. “I wish you’d told me, though.” It would have been nice to have some warning, to have missed those heart-stopping seconds before diving into the ocean where he’d been so sure Michael would turn the gun on him next.

Michael snorts. “Gavin, you’re so incredibly shit at keeping secrets that I’ve no idea how you’ve managed to stay alive this long,” he points out, and Lindsay laughs. “If we’d told you, Geoff and Kerry would’ve seen it coming a mile off.”

“He’s right,” agrees Lindsay, still giggling, and then kisses his pout away, nipping at his lower lip until he yelps instead. “Stop sulking. We’re all alive, aren’t we? And the heist went great.”  
“We’ve got fucking money for days,” crows Michael, punching the air with the hand not steering the boat. “We did good, guys. We did real good.”

Lindsay hums in agreement, a little distracted – Gavin’s finally uncurled from his warmth-preserving ball, dried out a little by their shared body heat and the wind, and is trailing warm kisses along the length of her throat.

“Guys?” asks Michael, confused by the lack of response, glancing around for a half-second to make sure they’ve not fallen off the back of the boat. The glimpse he gets of Gavin’s face pressed against Lindsay’s collarbone, one of her hands tangled in his hair and the other settled encouragingly on his waist. “God damn it, Lindsay, you couldn’t wait for me?!”

The only response he gets is a giggle, and then a moan that’s only half-fake when Gavin’s fingers slide up her sides to find her breasts, thumbs dragging across the high peaks of her nipples from the cold, visible through the shirt clinging to her skin.

“Fuck it,” mutters Michael at the next giggle from behind him, as Gavin noses at Lindsay’s jaw and finds the ticklish spot just behind her ear. He eases off the accelerator and waits for the boat to drift to a halt in a reasonably sheltered area close to shore before he kills the engine. Like hell he’s going to sit there driving while Gavin and Lindsay have all the fun.

Neither of them seems surprised when he arrives to push Gavin off where he’d settled comfortably in Lindsay’s lap, taking his place. “My fucking turn,” he grumbles, cut off by Lindsay pressing her mouth to his and kissing him hungrily, Gavin whining as he picks himself up where he’d sprawled across the seat at Michael’s shove.

“Michael,” he complains, pressing himself up against Michael’s side when neither of them pay him the slightest bit of attention, lost in each other’s mouths. “ _Michael_ , that was mean.” There’s no heat behind the words, though, as he watches where their lips connect with wide, excited eyes.

When Michael finally pulls back from Lindsay for air, he wraps an arm around Gavin’s waist and digs fingers into the skin and muscle beneath them. “Shut the fuck up,” he says, kissing Gavin again, biting down on his lower lip until he bleeds from where Lindsay’s teeth had been minutes earlier.

Lindsay runs a hand through Michael’s curls and drags nails across his scalp – a warning, despite the way she’s humming appreciatively. “Calm down, boys,” she says, with a grin. “There’s more than enough of me to go round.”

**Author's Note:**

> (alternate title: "the makeouts that totally happened after michael's heist")
> 
> and then they all had rather hurried sex in the back of the boat, and more sex when they got back to wherever the fuck their hideout is, probably. the end.


End file.
